


size doesn't matter when you're choking on it

by un_petit_peu_de_moi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Barcelona, M/M, Prompt Fill, sex failures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/un_petit_peu_de_moi/pseuds/un_petit_peu_de_moi
Summary: Neymar is enjoying a pleasurable time in the bath when Rafinha barges in and kinda ruins it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Entry for March kink prompt of the football prompt monthly : Shower/Bath.  
> Well it's a kink prompt but I may have played around with it a bit, hm. Also, I'm sorry about the title but I had fun with it.
> 
> Chinese translation available [here](http://moonandriver.lofter.com/post/1f95c95e_eecb9318)

Neymar lets out a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure and contendness.

 

He throws his head back, letting it fall against the edges bathtub. The hit of the rough and cold ceramic against his head grounds him, making things real. He feels like he’s floating. The water is warm but it doesn’t compare to his body – he’s hot, feverish, body flushed from his head to the tip of his toes. The warm water only makes it worse, makes the fever unbearable, wrap him in warmth so thoroughly he might as well be in a steam room. He feels dizzy.

 

He can’t stay still, flexing and spreading his legs in turns, curling his toes. His hips move up on their own even though he tries to reign them in, tries to reign himself in. He keeps closing his fists only to open them, one arm thrown leisurely over the edges of the jacuzzi, scratching at the white tiles. He flinches at the sound and at the feeling of his nails scraping ceramic, but it’s not enough to placate him, doesn’t do anything to slow the fiery pleasure that’s spreading from his crotch to the very tip of his toes.

 

He closes his eyes, lets his head fall over the edges, exposing his throat to the chilly air, stretching the skin and making it hard to breathe, until he’s gasping for air. Whispers and soft moans escape his parted lips every now and then, sometimes they sound like choked sobs and sometimes they sound like _Leos_ , and he feels oh so close-

 

That’s when Rafinha barges into the room.

 

“Hey Ney-”

 

Neymar yelps, his head snapping forward as he sits up straight, hands flailing and settling on his crotch to hide its secrets.

 

“Holy fu-”

 

“have you seen my laptop? I-”

 

“-ck can’t you knock on the damn door you filthy bastard _merda, filho da puta,_ _p_ _are de encher o saco !_ ”

 

Neymar’s heart is beating wildly and Rafinha, that absolute garbage, has the nerve to smile.

 

“Chill dude. I saw you naked plenty of times and it’s nothing impressive.” Rafinha smiles mockingly, clearly not taking Neymar’s spluttering seriously.

 

Neymar ignores the jab at his penis – which is of perfect size and girth and impressive in its own right – and his eyes search the room wildly, looking for a clock. He tries to count the seconds in his head but he’s too panicked to be trusted with the time and no clocks seem to be in the vicinity of the bathroom. He lets his phone in the pocket of his jeans and there’s no way for him to monitor the seconds as they flee by.

 

His eyes fall back on Rafinha’s laid back form, and a few seconds may have gone by, or maybe an eternity. God, he should have locked that damn door.

 

“What do you want, can’t you _leave_?”

 

Rafa rolls his eyes. “Like I said, I don’t know where my laptop is. You’ve seen it?”

 

The water is still and his nipples are hard. His knees are bent, poking out of the water and goosebumps are running over his arms because of the chilly air.

 

“No, I haven’t. I’m not your mom, take care of your damn stuff. Can you leave already?”

 

He was having a good, peaceful time and his friend had to go and ruin it.

 

His hands ball into fists over his crotch, torn between holding it in and letting go.

 

“Chill dude, why are you in such a hurry?” Rafinha asks, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“I’m not in-- I want to enjoy my bath alright!”

 

Rafinha laughs derisively and Neymar tries to remember how many seconds have passed. Anytime now--

 

“Yeah alright alright. Anyway, we wanted to watch a movie tonight, you in?”

 

“Sure, whatever, anything, can you just _go_?”

 

Rafinha rolls his eyes again, muttering something about _pequeno caralho_ and _suscetibilidade_.

 

“You’re so annoying dude,” Rafa says, louder so he can hear. “Tell Leo we’ll be watching Bee Movie if you see him.”

 

Neymar feels beads of sweat run on his forehead. It’s been what, 40 seconds? Probably more.

 

He nods. “Yes alright, alright,” he says faintly.

 

As soon as the door closes on Rafinha’s back, Leo surges out of the water, taking big gulps of air. He leans on the other side of the jacuzzi and Neymar sinks down to his neck.

 

“Oh god,” he mutters. “God I thought I was going to die.”

 

Leo is panting harshly but he still throws him a look that seems to mean _you weren’t the one choking here_.

 

“Yeah but, _I would die_ too.”

 

Neymar presses his palms against his eyelids, splashing water on his face. His dick has softened in record time, going limp at the very sight of Rafinha coming in without knocking while Leo graced him with an underwater blowjob.

 

He sinks down deeper, until his lower lip feels like its floating above water, and he stretches his legs in front of him, letting them brush against Leo’s own naked thighs.

 

Leo seems to be breathing normally again, but his face is flushed and random strands of hair are sticking to his face.

 

Neymar takes him in. The situation soaks in and he can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of his lips. It’s nervous and delirious at the same time, but _damn_ , what kind of situation was this?

 

Leo smiles and laughs along.

 

“God,” he finally says, voice hoarse. “I can’t believe I almost died with your dick in my mouth.”

 

“Can you imagine your eulogy?” Neymar asks, smiling mischievously before he tries to fake seriousness and gravity. “Lionel Messi, died doing what he loved best : sucking di-”

 

“Shut up,” Leo kicks in the general area of his body, the movement lazy and approximate. His foot lands on his ribs and ultimately decides to settle there.

 

A few seconds pass in silence, as they both come down from the recent adrenaline rush.

 

“So,” Neymar eventually tries. “I guess you’re not going to finish then?”

 

After vile attacks from Leo, Neymar discovers he can’t last more than 25 seconds underwater.

 


End file.
